


Flight Pattern

by PunkHazard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkHazard/pseuds/PunkHazard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hogwarts went international, no one really expected the Sorting Hat to put some of the highest-profile transfers in Slytherin. The Weis and Kaidanovskys never seemed to mind, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written as a prompt for @dragonzair on tumblr, then later expanded. implied past sasha/hu, lots of headcanon.

As a rule, Slytherins aren’t _greedy_. It contradicts their reputation, sure— ambitious, cunning wizards know when to hoard their loot. Conversely, effective leaders know exactly how to share it, raising the standard of their comrades to elevate themselves. It’s pretty simple, really— smart Slytherins help each other, and weed out the liabilities.

"Cherno Alpha," Cheung says, passing two heavy, steel-reinforced brooms to the beaters. "It’s designed for stability and acceleration, but its top speed is pretty average. Shouldn’t be too different from what you’re used to, but it’ll be more comfortable. For sure. Also less kick when you make contact with a bludger."

Sasha and Aleksis, both seventh-years and already scouted for Russia’s national Quidditch team, nod. The triplets had done their research before reaching out to their contact back in Hong Kong— a cousin who had helped launch a startup broom manufacturing company. Quidditch isn’t quite so popular back home, but it’d been gaining popularity and a quickly-growing base. Enchanted wheels are the preferred mode of transportation on the mainland, so the market for brooms— well, someone was bound to fill the niche.

Win a Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts with a Horizon Brave Ltd. broom and you put your company on the map; the CEO is a shrewd businessman, and the triplets’ presence at Hogwarts only helped. They’d planned to stay one year, and ended up deciding to enroll for good at the end of their first, solely for the Quidditch program.

(The Academy in the valleys of Huangshan lacks a team— and an age limit. Besides, it’d become popular policy in recent years to send young witches and wizards abroad for an international education before bringing them back up to speed on China’s long magical tradition, and the Weis had taken full advantage of the exchange program, having been fans of Quidditch since before they’d even been able to properly cast a spell.)

"Shaolin Rogue’s great for speed and precision," Hu says, tossing another broom to their keeper— the captain. "But you’ll need a pretty firm hand. Lose control and you’re gonna be in trouble. Good for seekers and keepers once you get the hang of it, though."

"I dunno about these made in China brooms," mutters the seeker, a mousy blond third-year rookie. The triplets just laugh, even while their captain glares at him. She’s a seventh-year, Alison, due to pass on her captaincy to Cheung (and marry Tendo) when she graduates. It’d been a fairly easy decision; if the triplets are generous contributors to the team now, that generosity will increase when one has an obligation, and vested interest, in their continued success.

"You can give it back if you want," Hu drawls, a warning and a challenge in his voice, "but we checked its quality for ourselves. We’re actually good flyers, though."

Jin whoops, swings his leg over his broom and kicks off, impatiently hovering behind his brothers. “The Quidditch Cup should be even easier this year since all the Ravenclaw aces graduated,” he says, “so it makes no difference to us. They’re just gifts to our beloved team anyway.”

"Yeah? And what about yours?"

"Crimson Typhoon is built for agility and maneuverability," and it’s Cheung who mediates this time, already bored of the conversation and unafraid to show it as he flips the Quaffle out of its box and releases the Snitch, tucking the larger red ball under his arm and mounting his broom. "You don’t even have to worry. Just stay out of our way."

"Get to practice," Alison snaps, unfastening the restraints over the bludgers and dodging the first one that bursts out of the box, "and we’ll see for ourselves if Horizon Brave merchandise is really any good."

"We’re not worried about you," Jin cajoles after he bumps fists with Hu, flying alongside their captain as she takes her place by the goalposts, "you actually know what you’re doing on one of these things."

Alison schools a smile off her face and drawls, “Get in position, Wei.”

"I did not know you were such babies about brooms," Sasha scoffs as she hovers beside Hu, moving in front of him to intercept a bludger, aiming it back at Aleksis. "He is just a stupid third-year, was unnecessary to provoke our seeker."

Hu tosses the Quaffle to Cheung as he dives by, and scoffs. “Have you seen the kid fly, Sasha? I think someone’s only on the team ‘cause his daddy paid for new boots.”

"There are more effective ways to make him quit," she shoots back.

"Too slow, котёнок," Hu laughs as he ducks away from a booted foot, "we have a cup to win."

Sasha rolls her eyes but warns even as the corners of her mouth quirk up, “Call me that again and it will not be bludger I hit with club next, зайчик.” She moves away from him to cover Jin as he closes on their keeper, deflecting one bludger from a collision with his broom and aiming the other one back at Aleksis, returning his wild-eyed grin with one of her own.

Jin veers away from Alison at the last second, tossing the Quaffle up as he aims his broom vertically down— Hu pactically materializes behind him, intercepting the ball and rolling to the other side for one of the open goals before chucking it through.

»

Potions with Ravenclaw is Cheung’s least favorite class (he gets bored following recipes to the letter, but only really experiments outside of class); the one light in the dungeon’s darkness being little Mako, who’s somehow managed to wheedle her way into a sixth-year lesson despite being fourteen years old. Jin adores her, of course, and always pairs up with her.

Which means Professor Gottlieb usually spends the lesson fending off Professor Geiszler (who sits in when there’s no herbology class going on at the time) and anxiously looking in their corner.

The Headmaster had charged him with keeping an eye on Mako during Potions, and it’s much harder to do that when she insists on partnering with a mischievous Slytherin instead of properly with the students who’ve been assigned to be her chaperones, leaving her unfortunate professor stuck trying to keep an eye on all corners of the room at once. It’s ridiculous enough that she gets to audit a N.E.W.T.-level course she’ll probably be taking properly in two years anyway.

Mako brandishes her knife at Jin when he reaches over her head to sneak a newt spleen off her side of the table, but grins at him when he taps the back of the blade with his wand, lips barely moving as he mutters a spell under his breath to turn the thing into a gorgeous, iridescent red-gold feather the length of her arm.

Transfiguration always was his best subject; it’s just that he underestimates Mako’s resourcefulness sometimes, because she shoves the feather up his nose while both brothers have turned in their seats to watch. Hu collapses against Cheung’s shoulder, muffling his laughter behind a fist, bits of dried lavender from the twig in his hand drifting to the floor as Jin paws at his face.

Cheung waits for his brother to extract the feather, quickly undoes Jin’s spell and drops another newt spleen onto Mako’s cutting board from his own table before the professor can catch them all goofing off. Mako looks at the back of his head for a few seconds after he turns around, right up until Jin pokes her in the ribs and prompts her to read the next set of directions to him.

Their potion is, to her surprise, just short of perfect. The triplets couldn’t have made it into the class without Os in their O.W.L.s, after all— Jin had stirred counterclockwise a quarter too many turns but quickly compensated with an extra pinch of bone powder before the potion could set. Its color turns out the barest shade lighter than Cheung and Hu’s (the level of their technique means mistakes are few and far between), but with a negligible difference in effectiveness.

Mako scrawls in her textbook: _precision is ideal, but ability to adapt is key to consistent success._

»

"Wait," Jin says, incredulously searching Raleigh’s face for a lie, "you’ve really never seen any Chinese magic? Because there’s four thousand years of it."

"I really haven’t," Raleigh answers sheepishly, eyes darting to the front of the Charms classroom to confirm that Professor Hansen is busy helping another table of students, "I was at Salem until last year. People at Hogwarts know it?"

"No," Hu sighs, "You would think there would be some sort of World Magic class like we had as kids in Hong Kong, but—"

"Wait, as kids?"

"There’s an exam to qualify for the international program," Cheung explains. "We picked Hogwarts for the Quidditch team. Some kids start studying very early."

"Show me."

Jin slides a few sheets of parchment from Raleigh’s end of the table toward himself, points the tip of his wand to the edge of the paper and magically divides the roll into three strips, handing one to each of his brothers. “Muggles think the only thing this is good for is reanimating dead bodies, ” Jin tells him cheerfully, flicking his wrist so the wand in his hand is suddenly a brush, tip already dark with ink, “You learn this as a kid before your ‘Qi’ really develops.”

Before Jin finishes inscribing his own spell, Hu reaches across the table and smacks his palm against his brother’s forehead, sticking the yellow parchment, a few characters splashed in dark red on it, to his face. Jin’s body freezes, his eyes the only part of him still able to move.

"People with weak magical power can store up spells or energy if they need to," Cheung explains, ripping the paper away and letting it dissolve into ash between his fingers while Jin punches Hu on the shoulder. "Even Muggles can use it, but it’s weaker for them and they need a wizard to write it. Concentration spells, habit-breaking spells, more like reminder charms than conspicuous magic. You need that quill?"

Raleigh hands over his quill. “I can always transfigure another one.”

"During the new year," Jin explains, "our Muggles write things like ‘fortune’ and ‘prosperity’ on red paper and stick them on doors and windows— they learned it from wizarding families. It doesn’t work as well for non-magical people, though."

Cheung sticks his own paper to the feather end of Raleigh’s quill when he finishes, neat lines of instructions written on the parchment, each one containing the same number of characters. “We have a stack of these for when we need to stay up all night or before a duel. Like athletes who store up their own blood.”

"Only it’s magic instead of bodily fluids."

"Of course," Raleigh says, smiling wryly. "Of course Slytherins duel regularly."

"He’s such a showoff," Jin laughs as his brother flicks the quill into the air and it bursts into flames, the ball of fire descending to the table and extinguishing to reveal a slightly singed and annoyed-looking rabbit. "Parents give these to their kids sometimes. They’ll stick themselves to strangers who approach and explode if you do it right."

"Ah, look," Hu snickers, elbowing Raleigh in the ribs, "you scared the poor Hufflepuff."

"You can give commands like a computer program. I’d show you, but my notebook doesn’t work out here."

"He gets the number of characters right, but the grammar’s so off poor Baibai’s never fireproof." Hu picks up the rabbit, dusting away a few bits of charred fur and scratching it behind the ears, handing it over when Raleigh extends his hands. "I wish you could read Chinese."

Raleigh grins while Baibai pushes its nose up against his cheek, tiny paws on his shoulder. “What are you going to do with this guy?”

Jin brandishes his last paper, wand back to its original form and tucked securely in his waistband. There’s only one character written on the parchment. “This will send him back home once you’re done cuddling the little asshole.”

"Asshole? This guy?"

"If you hold him for too long, he’ll pee on you."

Raleigh quickly puts the rabbit down and Jin sticks the paper to his forehead. Baibai vanishes in a puff of smoke, just in time for Professor Hansen to leave the table he’d been busy with to gravitate over. “Boys,” he says, obviously struggling not to smile (either at their magic or the predictability of Slytherins taking a shine to the one Hufflepuff in class who looks suitably impressed by their antics), “next time, you can do a demonstration for the whole class.”

»

Sasha idly traces her finger over the back of Hu’s neck while he’s curled up in front of the fireplace of the Slytherin common room, hooks the collar of his shirt and she folds it back into place with a firm tug. He looks over his shoulder, slow smile spreading over his face as he puts down his textbook and she drops over the back of the sofa and into his lap.

"Aleksis is asking me to Yuletide Ball," she tells him, watching the smile slide off his face like a viscous liquid.

"Is that why my brothers are keeping him busy in detention?" Cheung isn’t known for his troublemaking; it’d seemed weird to Hu that his brothers would get into something without him and with Aleksis of all people, but he takes it in stride when Sasha gives him a nod. "Either way, you should go. It’s been three years, and he truly likes you."

"I did not want you to be surprised. Teammates do not do such things to each other."

Hu wraps his arms around her waist, the kind of gesture that would land just about anyone else in the infirmary for a week, and drops his chin to her shoulder. “You’re worried about me?”

Sasha scoffs, but turns and cups his cheek with a hand, shifts her grip to pinch it. “If you have problem, Aleksis says he will find another date.” She warns playfully, “He may forgive you, but I will not.”

Hu says quietly as Sasha moves off him to sit properly on the couch, nestling herself under his arm, “Don’t break his heart, Sasha, he looks big, but he’s all soft on the inside.”

She lets a long silence pass before looking up, the sudden movement prompting him to glance down. Sasha seems to weigh her next sentence in her mind, expression calculating but much softer than usual. She gives Hu a look that dares him to open his mouth with anything other than complete sincerity. “I am afraid he may break mine.”

"You? Afraid?" Hu tugs lightly on the end of one of her braids and mutters against her temple, "It sounds serious."

"He is serious."

"Not like me."

"Is reason I like Aleksis in first place," Sasha answers flippantly, smacking the back of her hand against Hu’s chest. "This girl has had enough of handsome, charming delinquent who only knows how to love his brothers."

"Which isn’t to say that Aleksis can’t be a handsome, charming delinquent himself, yes?"

"Do not make fun of me. It may be last thing you do."

"Ah… Sasha."

"Hm?"

"You said—"

"I know. I did not mean it. Friendship is powerful kind of love as well, no?"

Hu answers, uncharacteristically stiff, “Our alliance helps all of us.”

"Yes," Sasha says, standing up. "Would be shame to see it end."

»

Which isn’t to say that Hu has ever or will ever leave well enough alone— he claims at least two slow dances from Sasha, both brothers trying to goad Aleksis into asking for one himself. The older boy’s already worked up into a nervous mess, which the Weis do absolutely nothing to alleviate. (Things Slytherins keep to themselves: how much of Aleksis’s size is all show when the rest of him is just a big cuddly teddybear who could, admittedly, rip pumpkins in half with his bare hands. Actually, it could be that his nerves only act up around Sasha; he’s won his fair share of duels.)

Mako’s sitting nearby, a plate stacked high with food in front of her. She’s working her way methodically through it, Raleigh chatting at her from one side and Chuck posturing at her other— he’s in the same year as Mako, only a Gryffindor. They have Charms together, but nothing else, their fathers old friends who’d served as Aurors together before retiring to teach at Hogwarts.

Jin elbows Cheung in the side, gesturing discreetly at Mako’s table, and then glancing in Hu’s direction. Their brother’s whispering something into Sasha’s ear— they’d planned this out beforehand— and Jin slings an arm over Aleksis’s shoulder, then blasts a spell into his back that propels him toward Sasha. Hu trots back to their table while Sasha strong-arms Aleksis into a dance and the triplets descend like hawks into Mako’s corner.

Chuck seems startled, Raleigh resigned and Mako grins at Cheung, who promptly ruffles her hair, messing a few strands out of the neat braids it’d been tied in.

"Hey, Hufflepuff—" Jin says, wrapping both arms over Raleigh’s shoulders, "your common room’s right by the kitchen, yeah? ‘Cause we were thinking that the professors are having all the fun and not leaving any for the students—"

"He means that we have some vodka from the Russians," Cheung cuts in matter-of-factly. "We’d get caught for firewhisky, but when we tested vodka on the goblets…"

Raleigh laughs, shaking his head. “You’re joking.”

Hu pulls back the lapel of his robe, flashing a glass bottle concealed in an inner pocket. An inner pocket charmed with an enlargement spell, meaning that there are doubtlessly dozens more stacked under the visible one. “Do you _know_ us?”

"Get us into the kitchen," says Cheung. "Mako can come too."

Raleigh’s silent for a long moment, but when Mako clears her plate, stands up and heads for the kitchen, Raleigh and Chuck follow without complaint. Once they’re inside (Hu and Jin still shocked and delighted at the information that all they had to do was tickle the painting of a pear to get in), Raleigh manages to talk a few house-elves into mixing bowls of punch, and then standing back while the triplets spike them.

When they’re all set up and the triplets are high-fiving each other for a successful prank, Mako tugs on Cheung’s sleeve. “You’re just sending them up like that?”

"Of course not. Jin."

"Oh, yeah." Jin reaches into his robes and extracts a few tags, slapping them onto each of the spiked punch bowls. "Slytherins only," he says with a wink at Mako and Chuck, but Mako just laughs and shakes her head, what she can read of the tags reassuring her, at least.

Chuck’s the one who asks, “What’s it really say?”

"Only fifth-years and up can drink, only my brothers and I can remove the tags." Cheung nods when the house-elves send up the punch bowls, his brothers both accepting a handful of snacks from a friendly elf. "When we get in trouble for this, it’s better if we make it so the kids couldn’t get trashed."

Raleigh ducks out of the kitchen behind the Jin and Hu as they dash back up to the Great Hall, their dress robes billowing out behind them. Cheung brings up the rear, making sure to close the kitchen door behind him. They arrive back to the Great Hall just in time to see a second-year flung ten feet away from a bowl of punch at the Hufflepuff table.

"They should consider themselves lucky we didn’t actually make it a ‘punch’," Hu observes cheerfully. 

They end up in detention for only a week, precautions against excessively underage drinking endearing themselves to Headmaster Pentecost, who’s also grudgingly appreciative of the complexity of their spells.


	2. Chapter 2

Two hours past midnight and the Hogwarts grounds are buzzing. Hu's picking his way carefully through the undergrowth of the Forbidden Forest and he's about ten minutes deep before he comes onto a familiar clearing, flipping his wand between his fingers. He only waits for another two minutes before a lanky shape slips out of the forest behind him and promptly tackles him to the ground. 

"Seriously," he hisses, "it just rained!" 

Jin chuffs at him, weight comfortably sitting on his back, warm breath puffing over his neck. Hu can feel water and mud soaking through the front of his shirt, but when he tries to push himself to his feet, Jin shifts again, putting one paw easily onto his head and shoving it down. 

"That's disgusting, bro." 

"I was going to say that Hu's too impatient," Cheung sighs as he joins them, "but Jin's even worse." He throws both arms around Jin's furry neck, scratches him behind the ears and hauls him off Hu's back only to get an armful of tiger, Jin on his hind legs rubbing his face against the side of Cheung's head. He's got both paws wrapped around Cheung's shoulders before Hu transforms, barreling into them from the side and rolling Jin onto his back. 

Cheung's pulled down with them, but he manages to avoid the mess of teeth and claws, escaping the fray with nothing more than some fur in his mouth while his brothers tumble in the dirt, kicking and baring their teeth. There's the part of Cheung that worries they'll lose themselves to their wilder instincts, but the rest of him knows that's irrational; they've done this plenty of times. 

By the time Cheung tucks his wand into his waistband, Jin and Hu are circling him, tips of their tails flicking impatiently. When he finally drops onto all four paws, the two of them turn and disappear into the brush. 

Well-- not quite disappear. Their scent marks them clearly even in the darkness, and three-hundred-pound tigers don't move so quietly in thick undergrowth. Cheung doesn't waste much time thinking about it, though-- they catch a scent and follow it, startle up the occasional bowtruckle. 

Tonight, the three of them aren't looking for anything in particular, moving beyond their usual stomping ground to explore the furthest reaches of the forest. They're under no delusions that they'll reach the other end of it before they have to head back to the castle-- it's a weekend anyway, but even if they don't have class, going missing for the duration would still make them conspicuous. 

He and Jin are occupied with... gleefully rolling in a particularly fragrant patch of grass while Hu forges ahead. Jin pauses abruptly, still on his back, but he flips over and flehmens for a few seconds, suddenly alert. Cheung thinks that face is ridiculous, but he copies it, lips pulled back, tongue hanging, and there's an unfamiliar smell mixed in with the the scent of (the _good stuff_ , his tiger mind unhelpfully supplies) what is evidently catnip. 

They're on their feet in two seconds, blundering through the trees when they hear a frightened roar break into a strangled yelp. Hu stumbles backwards away from three massive shapes bearing down on him and trips over a root, falling onto his ass the same moment Cheung and Jin burst into the clearing and plant themselves in front of him, identical roars echoring off the dense thicket around them. 

"Centaur territory," Hu says, voice about two octaves higher than it usually is. 

Two of the said centaurs aim their bows away from Hu and toward the snarling, bristling beasts in front of him, but the last one stamps her front hoof, pressing her companions' arms down. She exhales through her nose, the low frequency of the sound setting Cheung and Jin at ease enough for them to shift back into humans. 

"Juveniles," one of them says, voice disgusted. 

"We'll leave now," Cheung answers promptly, "if we had known this was centaur territory, we would have gone around." 

"We're really sorry," Hu says as Jin pulls him to his feet, "this area of the forest seemed a lot nicer than the rest of it." 

The lead centaur replies, not unkindly, "And now you know why." 

"Did we interrupt something?" Cheung asks, discreetly placing himself in front of Jin and shifting his brothers behind them. Not that it escapes the centaurs' notice. None of the Weis reach for their wands, hands all held in plain view. 

"A _divining ceremony_ ," a dappled gray stallion mutters, "but nothing important." He looks taken aback when all three wizards turn excited looks on him, two of them peering over the oldest's shoulder. 

"Divination?" Jin chimes in, ignoring his brothers' warning looks. "Not like reading tea leaves and palms, right? We always thought that was a bit hokey. Tea is for drinking, not reading." 

"How do wizards 'read' tea leaves," asks a younger bay mare, "exactly?" She backs away from a hoof aimed at her side by the lead mare, but swishes her tail and stamps a bit before taking her place at the flank again. 

"Hu and I failed that class," Cheung grumbles, "Jin only passed because he wrote nonsense on everything. Chinese divination is much more effective." 

"British wizards don't know what else to do with tea," Jin says with a shrug, "so they think they can tell the future in it." 

All three centaurs snort-- what probably passes for a laugh. The lead mare turns, head canting to the side as her companions follow. "You three should leave," she calls over her shoulder, "the rest of our herd will not be so kind if they find you here." 

"Good luck with your divination!" Hu shouts after them, waving. 

Cheung assumes their collective contempt for British wizards was what kept their heads attached to their bodies, but he quickly shoves at his brothers' shoulders, turning them in place and urging them back the way they came. Hu and Jin high-five, jostling each other as they walk. After a few more paces, the two of them smoothly change back into tigers, clearly intent on heading back toward that cluster of grass that Hu had bypassed earlier. 

"We're not stopping until we're back at the castle," Cheung yells after them, picking up his pace. He draws his wand, already cycling through the spells in his mind that could levitate two tigers away from a patch of catnip.


	3. Chapter 3

“How are these three,” Pentecost murmurs as he steps into the Slytherin dungeons for the first time in many years, “more destructive _without_ opposable thumbs?” He slowly takes in in the bits of wrapping paper and cardboard scattered across the common room, silk lining and bits of cushions rolling across the stone floor like tumbleweed, the remains of several couches sitting morosely in a corner between repairs, ashes in front of their fireplace scattered over the hearth. 

One of the three bear cubs wrestling at Sasha’s feet looks up and trots over at the sound of Pentecost’s voice, sitting heavily in front of him and turning wide, brown eyes on the headmaster. From behind Stacker, Mako makes a tiny sound, then darts forward to pick the bear up, pressing her cheek against the bristly fur on top of his head. 

“That one is Cheung,” Sasha tells them. 

“Mako told me what happened,” Stacker says, eyeing the bear. 

It had taken her all five days of the holiday week to muster up the courage to tell him that she’d accidentally turned the triplets into bear cubs. Stacker had taken it quite well, far better than he should have as either a professor or a headmaster. (He’d been wondering if the relative peace and quiet over Christmas break could have been because the Weis were gearing up for some kind of epic mischief, or if one of them were mortally ill— both would have been much harder to resolve than a simple transfiguration.) 

“It was good bear potion,” Aleksis offers encouragingly as he scoops up one of the cubs and tucks him into the front flap of his robe, “not such great beard potion.” 

Mako uses Cheung’s neck to hide her face. She’d even left Chuck out of her story, even though he’d been the one to spike the Weis’ pumpkin juice with her experimental potion at lunch when she was reconsidering. It was supposed to be a harmless prank to make them all grow beards, in retaliation for them defacing her charms textbook— little fireworks whistling and popping every time she turns to a page with the number three on it. 

She knows the brothers wouldn’t hold it against her. The complexity of the potion would be more interesting to them, so she’d saved the scrap of paper she’d found the recipe on (with the D some prankster had scrawled onto it crossed out). The problem was that she couldn’t dig up a reverse-bear potion and she hasn’t learned enough transfiguration to be entirely comfortable trying random spells on them. 

Sasha and Aleksis had declined to try it as well, their specialty in offensive spells rather than transfiguration. The triplets, in their group of friends, are the most skilled at transfiguration but even Hu can’t cast a spell as a bear. 

Stacker waits for Mako to put Cheung down before tapping him on the snout with his wand, murmuring a spell under his breath. Cheung’s sitting on the floor when he regains his shape, dressed in rumpled, dirt-covered robes with streaks of mud across his face. 

“We spent a few hours outside,” he says as he stands up and the last cub runs up to him. He picks him up and holds him out to Pentecost, who taps him lightly on the nose as well. Hu stumbles backwards into Cheung when his brother drops him, his weight too much to hold at arm’s length. Aleksis reluctantly sets Jin down, scratching behind his ears before he toddles up to Stacker. 

Jin scratches the back of his neck once he’s human again, and he keeps scratching until Cheung grabs his hand and pulls it away for a closer look. 

“Fleas,” he announces distastefully, quickly letting go. Stacker steps aside to let them dash for the showers, then returns to his office, leaving Mako in the Slytherin common room. 

She probably spends way too much time, for a Ravenclaw, in the dungeons but no one really minds; some of the older students don’t even know her name but call her ‘honorary Slytherin’ in the halls when they see her. (Mako likes the unity of the Slytherin students, but she’s also seen the Weis and Kaidanovskys play pranks on each other that would qualify as ‘horribly traumatic’ under any circumstance. She’s also seen them viciously hex Gryffindors and Ravenclaws on each other’s behalf.) 

Aleksis sighs, turning a baleful look on Mako. “They are much cuter as bears,” he says matter-of-factly, joining Sasha on the couch in front of the fireplace. “You still have recipe?” 

Handing over the slip of paper, Mako settles on the armchair opposite the couple and pulls her feet up under her knees, leaning forward. “Thank you for taking care of them,” she says, “and keeping them out of trouble.” 

“Was no problem,” Sasha answers, giving Aleksis a sly look out of the corner of her eye. “They played in Forbidden Forest all week with no bath. Is why triplets were so dirty.” 

“They swim well as tigers,” Aleksis adds, “not so well as bears.” 

“They fell in the lake?” 

“Jumped into lake,” Aleksis grunts, waving a dismissive hand toward the massive windows, the giant squid choosing just that moment to swim in front of it. “Needed rescue.” 

“Aleksis was like mama grizzly. Very cute.” 

Mako makes a displeased sound— she’s been trying to convince the Weis to teach her how to become an animagus the way they’d coached Aleksis and Sasha through the process, but they’ve been avoiding the subject. They’ve also given every excuse under the sun, like ‘the headmaster will find out and make us register’ or ‘we don’t see you enough, you need to practice constantly’ and ‘it’s dangerous if you don’t have someone on standby to change you back if you mess up’. 

She’d also promised not to tell anyone, so convincing a housemate that she just one day up and decided to become an animagus would take a lot of work without dragging out the Slytherins to prove it was totally possible as a third year. 

Mako’s still hanging around when the Weis get back to the common room, all three brothers looking clean, wearing gym shorts and t-shirts. Muggle clothing always seems a bit out of place on Hogwarts grounds, but perfectly natural on them. (They say it’s just the way they wear it; Mako would dispute that, but she never has the energy to get into long, drawn-out debates about pointless things.) 

Jin asks, “You still have that potion, Mako?” 

“I gave the recipe to Aleksis.” 

Hu sighs as Jin advances on the massive Russian, rolling his shoulders. Cheung and Hu turn their attention to Mako while Jin wrestles Aleksis off the couch and both of them tumble to the floor. The entire rest of the common room easily ignores their scuffle, having learned to tolerate it many years ago. Sasha lifts her feet when they roll past her, a textbook open in her lap. 

“Mako,” Hu whines, poking the back of her head as Cheung sits on the armrest of her seat, “why?” 

“You would have used it against me. I made the most logical choice.” 

“Not so logical,” Cheung says, sounding amused. “We’re Slytherins. We always get what we want. Just a matter of how.” 

Mako’s expression twists, her lips pulling back to bare her teeth. It’s still a sore point for her, that the Sorting Hat put her in Ravenclaw instead of her sensei’s house. There’s no faster way to piss her off than to point that out. It had even asked, _You want to go in Slytherin? We can do that._

She’d thought, _Be objective_ , then almost broke the thing when it threw her into Ravenclaw. Not that Mako doesn’t have friends in her own house (and the extent to which she can really refer to the Weis and Kaidanovskys as her friends is limited, seeing as they’re all at least three years ahead of her), but there’s a certain amount of comfort associated with the people who like and respect the headmaster as much as she does. And who happily allow her into their lives and common room as easily as they do. 

(Some of her housemates have said that the Slytherins just want to get in good with the headmaster by making nice with his daughter; Ravenclaws can be blunt, but when she’d asked, they’d answered honestly. ‘It’s obviously an advantage for us if we’re friends with you,’ Hu told her, ‘but the tradeoff wouldn’t be worth it if we didn’t like you as well.’ 

‘What he means,’ Sasha had interrupted when she saw Mako’s expression, ‘is that we like you as person, is also good if headmaster is easy on us. There is no drawback.’ 

Funnily enough, that made her feel better than any reassuring platitudes they could have offered.) 

“Um,” Mako says as Aleksis pushes himself to his feet and drags Jin up with him, all five of the older students finally settling down. “I wanted to apologize,” she addresses to Cheung, “it was supposed to be a harmless prank. I made a mistake and wasted your holiday week.” 

“Aw, we don’t mind.” 

“We just spent the whole week harassing Aleksis,” Hu tells her, laughing. 

“Following him around the Forbidden Forest…” 

“Making him bring food for us from the kitchen…” 

“Chewing on his beard for food,” Cheung snorts. 

“And his leg,” Hu says, “and clawing up his bed.” 

“It seems,” Mako says, tone dry, “the one I owe an apology to is Aleksis.” She stands up, walks up to him and plants a friendly kiss on his cheek as she prepares to leave, ignoring a round of whistles and cheers from the Weis. Sasha laughs when Aleksis gruffly pats her on the shoulder, all five of them seeing her to the dungeon entrance as she heads to back to her common room. 

“You will teach her animagi magic,” Sasha asks Cheung once they’ve shut the painting, “yes?” 

“Yeah,” he answers, “eventually. Right after we give her a taste of being a bear.” 

Jin brandishes the recipe he’d managed to wrestle away from Aleksis, grinning. 


End file.
